


a light; his light

by Ouji



Category: Dark Souls III
Genre: Agender Character, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22138675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ouji/pseuds/Ouji
Summary: A character study of Horace's feelings about Anri.
Relationships: Anri of Astora/Horace the Hushed
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	a light; his light

**Author's Note:**

> I used they/them for Anri but you're free to interpret it however you like!

Everything is so much brighter when they’re around.

That armor, the blue of elite Astora, looks too big for them. It fits physically, but he knows they don’t fully understand the burden of it, more than just a lost home but an entire kingdom gone. Still, he admires how they embrace it, wear every bit of cloth and steel with pride and determination.

They’re everything he wishes he could be, and he wishes he could let them know. Their kindness, slighted for naivety by others, has always been one of their biggest virtues. Their adamancy in seeing through their duty, even though deep down both Anri and Horace know it’s never going to be easy.

Among their virtues of kindness and honesty and warmth, they have those little tells of personality that keeps them from a pedestal. The way they pout and even under the helmet Horace can feel it. That flustered stance with the hand on the side and the hips pushed ever so slightly forward. Chest puffed to make them seem bigger than they are. He always humors them, but they’ll always be tiny to him, too.

There’s something beautiful in the way they carry their emotions. Maybe it’s born of spending so much time being so close, but he can read them like a book. They don’t need to speak, he only has to look at them to know how they feel.

They have a more physical beauty about them he can’t help but appreciate, too.

He doesn’t think much of others based on how they appear, in a world ridden with the decaying undead there’s no time for physical appearances. And yet Anri remains pure, radiant, leaving Horace breathless when he catches them in quiet moments doing nothing at all. 

Delicate, not easily shattered like an old doll, but gentle enough that a crack would carry to their very soul; their humanity itself. He has nothing but faith in Anri, but he’d give anything to always be holding onto them, keeping them as safe as his marred body will allow him to.

He’s grateful he’s by their side. It could have been anyone, but he was the one who by some kindness of fate was allowed to stay by Anri’s side, the place he wishes to remain until the very end.


End file.
